Damn it, Rory loved her. Even if he did not want to believe it anymore. She would find a way to earn his trust and win her Highlander back.
She must, for he owned her heart.
***
BANG, BANG, BANG!
Nowthatwas Rory’s knock. Though Sybil had been waiting for him for hours, she did not respond but remained by the window with her back to the door. When it crashed against the wall as he flung it open, she drew in a deep breath to prepare herself. Slowly, she turned around to face him.
She fought to maintain a placid expression while her heart lurched at the sight of him filling the doorway. With his icy expression, tousled hair, and angry green eyes, Rory looked as if he had swept in on the harsh northern wind like a Norse god of legend.
“Ye haven’t been downstairs to the hall all day,” he snapped. “Have ye forgotten we have a castle full of guests to celebrate our marriage?”
“Strange as it may seem, I don’t feel much like celebrating.”
When she turned her back on him again, he spun her around and glared down at her, his chest heaving. She was determined not to cower.
“I’ll not have ye embarrass me like this,” he said. “Half my clansmen already question my judgment for taking ye for my wife without proving them right on the first goddamn day.”
“Perhaps ye should set me aside, then,” she said in even tone.
“Don’t tempt me.” He took her arm and started walking her toward the door. “If ye don’t want me to send ye back where ye came from, then you’ll play the part of loyal wife in front of our guests. We both know how good ye are at pretending.”
“I suggest you pretend you’re not a brute for a moment and take your hands off me.” She planted her feet and glared up at him until he released her arm, then she drew in a calming breath and brushed her skirts.
“Like it or no, ye will come with me,” he said.
“My mother raised me to be a gracious hostess, no matter how trying the circumstances.” As she spoke, she tidied the strands of hair that had fallen loose from her headdress. “So I will go charm our guests and pretend to be thehappiestof brides.”
Sybil marched down the stairs, determined to dazzle them all. She would show these MacKenzies—especiallytheMacKenzie. She wastougher than any of them knew.
And she was playing to win.
***
Rory watched Sybil move among their guests with her usual grace and beguiling charm. Though he had asked—nay, demanded—that she do precisely that, the ease with which she masked her feelings and led everyone to believe she was the happiest of brides irritated him to no end.
“Can’t take your eyes off your bonny bride.” An older man named Fergus elbowed him in the side and chuckled. “I had my doubts about ye taking a Lowlander for a wife. Thought she’d be haughty and cold, but Lady Sybil is a delightful lass.”
“And she knows how to tell a good joke,” the man on his other side said. “Want me to tell it to ye? Well, it starts with …”
Rory was wretched, and his wife was telling jokes? The group that surrounded her burst into laughter as if to prove it. In the center of them, Sybil’s eyes sparkled and her cheeks were pink as she told a tale with great animation. Even more than her beauty, she had an inner glow that drew every person in the room to her.
Especially the men.
Malcolm appeared behind him and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “If ye can take your eyes off your bride for a wee bit, there are some men over by the hearth ye ought to speak with.”
As the evening crawled by, Malcolm drew him from one group to another. Rory hoped he showed more patience than he felt while he listened to old men urging caution and young men arguing for an attack on Hector. They all offered simplistic platitudes, rather than useful advice.
He watched Sybil across the room as she, too, moved from group to group. Each time he glanced her way, the men surrounding her were hanging on her every word.
When he could not stand it anymore, he decided to find out what she was telling them that was so damned fascinating and pushed his way to her side.
“A chuisle mo chroí,”pulse of my heart,she greeted him. She looked so sincere when she smiled up at him that he could almost believe she meant the endearment.
Worse, he wanted to believe it, which made him angry all over again.
“I must see that another keg of ale is brought up,” she said, and excused herself.